There are those who believe we must guard and protect children from the hurts and traumas of the big bad world for as long as possible. Then there are those people who believe we should toughen kids up by exposing them to and even pummeling them with terror and depravity. Those people become children’s filmmakers. Don’t believe me? Gaze upon the list below and find a hall of horrors to give Wes Craven nightmares.
I’ve made a list. I checked it twice. Everything on here is totally insane. Maybe you have fond memories of some of the items on this list, but remember: you were a kid, and your logic was impaired. Of course you thought watching metal roll down steps or spinning on a plastic disk until you threw up was a reasonable way to spend your time. But now that we’re parents, let’s look at these toys with a little more perspective . . .
Whenever I see the toys available to kids these days, I seethe with jealousy. Robotic unicorns that fly! Video games more realistic than life itself! Jet packs! Where was this stuff when we were kids? To be fair, we had some pretty decent toys during our childhood. That is, if said toys had ever actually done the things they were advertised to do. We are a generation of rubes. On Saturday mornings, advertisers showed us incredible playthings that could do stuff far beyond what technology was capable of achieving. But we bought it hook, line and sinker because . . . we were kids and we were dumb. Then we worked all summer just to earn money to buy that laser death ray which — guess what? — vaporized nothing. That was the moment we learned the world was just a tangle of lies. In memorium of our childhood innocence, here are the fifteen most egregious toy commercial claims.
My kid is going through a violent, destructive phase. She’s a real cock-of-the-walk, a three-year-old bruiser starting fights with people dozens of weight classes above her. Any stranger who greets Jillian with, “How are you, pretty girl?” will get a punch in the thigh. She hits when she doesn’t get her way. She hits when she does get her way. She just likes to hit.
Our three-year-old, Jillian, loves the nightlife. She keeps the party going at all hours, bouncing around her bedroom. The kid hates to sleep, fights violently against it. You can see exhaustion spread through her as she lashes out at this invisible foe. Still, she doesn’t give up. No matter how tired she gets, she keeps swinging from the rafters, enacting a nightly Cirque Du Soleil in the room next to ours.
My wife, Nicole, and I just stare at our bedroom ceiling, praying for Jillian to get a cold so we can pump her full of Baby Nyquil…
Daddy will protect you from the monsters
Hell no, I don’t stand a chance against monsters. Luckily, monsters tend to do their own thing, they go about their business. But if one ever showed up, that would be a problem. I like to think I am reasonably able to defend my family. If a deranged Jack Russell Terrier shows up to harm my family, I will wrestle that thing to the ground. (Note: I have no evidence to back this claim up) but if a monster showed up, we’d all be screwed. Game over. I mean, it’s a monster after all.
Breaks into your house, eats all your food and maybe leaves you some tainted toys from China. And that’s if he deems you as “good.” If not he leaves you coal (which with today’s fuel prices might not be the worst gift). And how does he know whether you are good or not? He’s been watching you. He’s always got his eyes on you. You know who else watches you all the time and decides whether you are good or not? Buffalo Bill. If you get a stocking full of skin lotion, I’d move.
Our kids bathe together. With my daughter at four-years-old and my son not quite two, the cute harmlessness of their tub adventures is directly proportionate to the amount of embarrassment they will feel when I show them the pictures when they’re teens.
Sometimes communal bath time casually transforms into anatomical exploration time…
Never again deny the power of the “T”. Mr. T has battled many a righteous foe in his time– international terrorists, Rocky Balboa, pity-worthy fools who don’t treat their mama right…
When a child learns to poop or pee in a toilet on their own, it’s an event worthy of a tickertape parade. Or at least you’d think so based on how parents react to this milestone. Who can blame them? One family’s diaper budget can equal the gross domestic product of a small Pacific Rim nation. But sometimes maybe parents want too desperately for the independent potty to come. So they turn to science, or more to the point, weird-ass inventions.
The Potty Pony
For the tyke who needs to defecate on the go, this horse shaped toilet teaches your kid to poop and also a healthy disdain for nature’s creatures. If this one works out for you, I just wouldn’t take junior to a petting zoo thereafter.